by Sarah Price
Even if Linda or one of her daughters saw her walking through town with the basket, they wouldn’t question why she was in town. After all, someone had to deliver the baked goods to the teacher for the auction. If she bumped into either of her stepsisters on the main street of town, Ella knew that neither one of them would bother checking to see how many items were in the basket. They were more concerned with who might buy their cakes.
Ella’s secret was safe at last!
She was halfway to the schoolhouse when she caught sight of Hannes, leaning against a tree and carving the bark off of a stick. He seemed to be waiting for something. . . or, perhaps, someone.
Ella shifted the basket to her other hand, hiding it behind her skirt.
“Ella Troyer!” He flung the stick to the ground and shut his small knife blade. “I thought I might run into you today.” Shoving the knife into his back pocket, he jogged over to walk alongside her.
“Oh, ja?” She smiled back at him. “And why’s that, Hannes?”
He gestured toward the school. “All the young women are bringing their baked goods for tonight’s event. I figured I’d be seeing you around sooner or later.”
She laughed. “So you’ve been standing out here all morning, then?”
“Oh, Ella.” He gave her a soft smile. “I’d have waited all day if that’s what it took to get a moment alone with you.”
His confession caught her off guard, and she blushed.
He must have sensed her discomfort, as he quickly resumed his teasing tone. “After all, I wanted to find out which pie I should bid on tonight.”
“Which pie?” She gave him a sideways glance. “Why, I reckon you’d buy the one that you fancy the most!”
“Or the one made by the baker I fancy the most, since I’m supposed to share the first piece with her!”
Ella had forgotten about that. “Oh help,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. How could she have forgotten the evening when Linda was ranting and raving about this new twist to the auction?
“Is something the matter?”
Quickly, she shook her head. “Nee, nee.” She tried to compose herself. “It’s just that . . .” Think fast, she told herself. “. . . I couldn’t tell you which pie I baked.”
He stopped walking and faced her. “Why ever not?”
A smile formed on her lips. “That would be cheating.”
“Cheating?” He placed his hand on his chest in mock horror. “Me? Why, I’d never stoop so low as to sneak a peek at your pie!”
Ella felt her heart skip a beat. And, from the way her cheeks grew warm, she knew that she was blushing. What was it about Hannes that made her constantly flush pink?
“Besides,” he said in a tone that suggested he was telling her a big secret, “I’m not the only fellow lingering around the schoolhouse trying to catch a glimpse of his girl bringing in her treat.”
Ella blinked. Had she heard him correctly? Had Hannes just called her his girl? Her heart quickened at the thought. Surely she had misheard him! Still, her mind reeled at the possibility that she hadn’t. Did Hannes actually consider her to be walking out with him? They’d only had a few interactions, and nothing that remotely bordered on a formal courtship. While the idea of courting Hannes—seriously courting him!—was certainly not unpleasant to her, she also knew that he would return to Blue Springs soon enough, and she’d probably never see him again.
Hannes interrupted her whirlwind of thoughts.
“See?” Hannes gestured with this head toward the far side of the schoolhouse, where, along the road that led into town from the south, two young men were leaning against their buggies, talking to each other as casually as could be. And yet, the one kept glancing over his shoulder toward the road as if waiting for someone to appear.
Ella recognized the man as Paul Hostetler, and he was most likely waiting for Martha Esh. It was common knowledge that he fancied her, even though Martha hadn’t been too quick to reciprocate his affections. At least not openly.
“Now,” Hannes said lightly, “if you won’t tell me what pie you made, let me at least carry the basket and walk with you the rest of the way to the school.”
Relinquishing the basket to his care, Ella gave him a feigned stern look and wagged her finger at him. “No peeking.”
“It’s heavy.” He felt the basket, raising and lowering it several times. “Let me guess.” He scrunched up his eyes as if thinking hard. “I’m supposing there are three pies in here.” He pretended to feel the basket once again. “No. Make that two cakes and one pie.”
Ella gasped. “However did you know?”
Nudging her arm with his own, he started walking again. “I am a man who knows his desserts.”
As they walked to the schoolhouse, Ella glanced at the general store. To her surprise, her stepmother was standing outside the doors, her arms crossed over her chest. There was an angry look upon her face, and Ella realized that Linda had certainly witnessed her talking with Hannes. Now her stepmother was watching as Hannes carried the basket and accompanied her to the schoolhouse.
Oh help, she thought. Surely this will not end well at home.
Ella lowered her head and wished she knew why, exactly, her stepmother looked so very angry.
Inside the schoolhouse, Ella greeted the teacher, Elizabeth Grimm. Today she wore a pretty, light green dress, and with her blond hair pulled back, neatly tucked under her prayer kapp, she looked every bit the proper Amish woman.
“Gut morgan, Ella.” She stood up and hurried around the desk to greet Ella. Her eyes glanced over Hannes. “And you are . . . ?”
He set the basket on the edge of the desk. “. . . Buying the desserts in this basket later tonight.”
Elizabeth tried not to laugh. “Oh? Is that so?”
With a wink at Ella, Hannes patted the top of the basket with all of the confidence in the world. “That’s for sure and certain.”
“You haven’t peeked, have you?” Elizabeth asked.
Hannes shook his head. “I’d never stoop so low.”
Elizabeth tried to hide her amusement at Hannes’s serious declaration. She lifted the lid of the basket and peered inside. “Oh Ella! You made your maem’s special . . .” She stopped short before giving away what it was and glanced at Hannes as she added, “. . . dessert.”
“Special dessert? What makes it so special?” Hannes asked.
Ella feigned a look of secrecy. “She always made it with a secret ingredient.”
Hannes rubbed his hands together. “And the plot thickens!”
Smiling, Elizabeth placed her hands on the basket handle. “Now, you know you’re supposed to eat the first piece of dessert with the young woman who baked it, ja?” She lifted the basket. “And this feels like it’s holding more than one. I hope you bring your appetite as well as your money to bid.”
“I shall bring both, Teacher.” He dipped his head in a charmingly exaggerated manner that caused Elizabeth to laugh and Ella to blush. “Now, we’d best leave you to sort out the pie . . .” He glanced at Ella. “. . . and cakes.”
Once outside, Ella glanced toward the general store. Sure enough, Linda was still standing there. Only now, her two daughters stood on either side of her. Both of them glowered in her direction.
Hannes must have seen Ella look toward the store, for he did the same, and upon seeing the unwelcome—and clearly unhappy—audience, he exhaled sharply. He reached for Ella’s arm and began to guide her down the street.
“Let me walk you home, Ella,” he said in a low voice. “Seems a bit crowded in town for us to talk any more here.”
Any sort of response was trapped in her throat. Simply put, Ella couldn’t speak. She had seen that look once before on Linda’s face, and that was just the previous week when Ella had left the Scrabble game early. What was it about Hannes Clemens that Linda did not like? From what Ella had observed, he was a good Christian man with fair business practices—and a lot of patience, considering he was still apparen
tly dealing with Linda!
Suddenly, it dawned on Ella that her stepmother might not have a problem with Hannes, but with the attention he was bestowing on her.
The day of the Scrabble game, both Drusilla and Anna had appeared particularly pleased when their mother told Ella she couldn’t go to the youth singing. And when they had witnessed Hannes talking with Ella in the street earlier that week, both of them had looked especially irritated. Was it possible that Drusilla and Anna were complaining to their mother? After all, both girls had made it quite clear that they were interested in Henry “Hannes” Clemens, and Ella knew that Linda would stop at nothing to get her daughters anything they wanted.
“Are you feeling okay?”
Startled from her thoughts, Ella realized she had forgotten that Hannes was still walking beside her. Absentmindedly, she nodded.
But he clearly didn’t believe her.
“I trust I didn’t get you into any sort of”—he paused as if struggling for the correct word—“strife with your stepmother.”
Too quickly, Ella shook her head. “Nee, of course not.” But even she knew that the words were not believable.
“Ella?” He prodded gently. “That doesn’t sound convincing.”
She forced a smile. “She’ll just be wondering why I wasn’t home finishing my chores.”
For a moment, Hannes was silent, as if contemplating what she had said. They continued walking toward the white house near the edge of town, Ella deep in thought and Hannes remaining quiet. It was only when they stopped at the white gate that he spoke at last.
“Ella, I certainly hope that I see you later this evening.” There was something amiss about the way he said that. “I would be disappointed if you were not there.”
Ella stared at the ground. She couldn’t meet his gaze, too afraid that he might see the truth in her expression.
He took a deep breath and sighed. “It’s been rather difficult to get to spend any time with you.”
She swallowed, her pulse quickening. What was he trying to say? That if she did not attend, his disappointment would hinder him from pursuing a courtship? Had she misread him all along? Or did he simply think she wasn’t interested in him and was, perhaps, avoiding him?
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, this time avoiding his gaze for fear that he would see the tears that now welled in her eyes. She simply had to get to the charity event. She couldn’t disappoint him one more time. “I . . . I had best get inside to finish my chores.”
She started to turn when he reached out and touched her arm, holding her back. She had no choice but to look at him. His blue eyes studied her face, and she saw him frown. Oh! How could she blame him for not wanting to walk out with someone like her? Her situation at home was far too complicated, thanks to Linda and her daughters.
“I’ll see you later?” The way he asked was more than just a question. It was almost as if there was a warning in his tone.
God willing, I’ll be there, she thought, but her heart remained heavy. Instead of saying what she was thinking, she merely nodded her head and hurried off, the tears quickly falling from her eyes as soon as she was a safe distance away. How could she have thought Hannes was enamored with her if he would give up so easily?
Chapter Nineteen
“Knock, knock?”
Ella looked up, her eyes blurry from having spent so much time working on Drusilla’s dress. Her neck ached and her shoulders were sore from being bent over the fabric. It was almost two o’clock, and she still had so much work to complete, including Anna’s dress and weeding the garden.
“Ella?” a voice called from the doorway.
“In here.”
She looked up and, to her surprise, saw that Miriam entered. She wore a light gray dress—an unusual color for an elderly Amish woman, but one that Ella found rather flattering for her.
“Miriam King!” Forcing a smile on her face, Ella tried to appear pleasant. While she was always glad to see Miriam, the stress of having to finish the dresses before Drusilla and Anna returned was hindering what otherwise would have been a fine surprise visit. “What a nice surprise!” she said, setting down the fabric. “What brings you here?”
Miriam glanced around the kitchen, her eyes widening as she saw the dishes that needed washing and the fabric spread across the table. “Seems like you’re elbows-deep in chores, Ella.” She set a bag onto the counter and walked over to the table. “Hmm. What a pretty fabric,” she said as she peered over Ella’s shoulder. “What are you making?”
Ella tried to swallow her contempt for her stepsisters as she answered with a simple, “Dresses for Drusilla and Anna.”
Miriam raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you be getting yourself ready for the event tonight?”
Ella couldn’t help but sigh. “I doubt that I’ll be attending, Miriam.”
Miriam gasped. “Why ever not?”
There were far too many ways Ella could answer that question, but she didn’t want to disrespect Linda. Even though her stepmother might deserve a little disdain from time to time, Ella knew that a good Christian should not speak ill of another. And she certainly wasn’t about to complain to the deacon’s wife!
“I . . . I just haven’t finished my chores,” she admitted.
Dismissively, Miriam waved her hand. “Oh, stuff and nonsense! Chores, indeed.” She let her fingers drift to the fabric. “Making your stepsisters’ dresses can surely wait.”
Ella shook her head. “Nee, it cannot. The girls want to wear new dresses tonight.”
A dark cloud passed over Miriam’s face. “It’s high time those two girls made their own dresses . . .” She leveled her gaze at Ella. “And baked their own treats, ja?” She didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she pulled out a chair and sat down. “I’ll tell you what, my dear child. You let me handle these dresses. After having ten children—and six of those dochders!—I know a thing or two about dressmaking.”
Just the thought of allowing Miriam to assist her mortified Ella. What would Linda say if she found out? “Oh, I couldn’t!”
Miriam frowned at her and wagged her finger. “Oh, you can and you will, indeed!” She reached for the fabric.
Reluctantly, Ella released it.
Satisfied, Miriam walked over to the sofa near the windows along the back of the kitchen. She settled down and examined the dress. “You stitch well, Ella.”
Ella flushed at the compliment. No one ever noticed her work, never mind recognizing it with kind words.
“Why! I’ll have them done in less than an hour!” She lifted her gaze and smiled at Ella. “Now, you go finish whatever else needs to be done and leave this to me.”
Still, Ella hesitated. If Linda came home and saw Miriam there, sewing dresses for Drusilla and Anna, she would be more than displeased. She’d be downright humiliated and angry.
As if reading her mind, Miriam said, “Your stepmother’s busy at the store. She won’t be home for at least two hours, so don’t you fret none.” And then she smiled. “Now, go on and finish whatever else needs to be done to satisfy that stepmother of yours. I’m more than happy to help out.” Once again, she studied the fabric. “I can’t remember the last time I made a dress with such fine material as this is!”
“It’s a new material that Linda ordered.”
Miriam pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. “I imagine it’s rather dear.” Clearly she held an unfavorable opinion, and she shook her head in disapproval. “Seems a bit prideful to use it for her own dochders.”
Ella couldn’t agree more, but she said nothing in response.
With nothing left to say, Miriam bent her head over the dress and began to finish stitching the hem. Under her breath she began to hum a hymn, a smile on her lips as she sewed. Her hands moved so quickly that Ella watched her for a moment, fascinated at the woman’s ability to focus so intently on the unexpected task she had undertaken.
Satisfied that Miriam was indeed content, Ella got up from the table and headed towar
d the door. With Miriam helping her, Ella could finish weeding the garden and clean the kitchen. Everything else had been taken care of, since she had arisen so early to tackle baking the bread and cleaning the basement before making the cakes and pie.
At the door, Ella paused and glanced over her shoulder. “Danke, Miriam.”
Another wave of her hand. “Never you mind, child. After all you do for everyone else, it’s high time someone help you. Now go on and let me finish this dress.”
Outside, the sun was still high overhead, and the air remained fresh.
Suddenly, it dawned on her that she had been remiss in inquiring about the reason behind Miriam’s unexpected visit. It wasn’t like Miriam, or anyone else, for that matter, to stop by the house. Belle and Sadie had been the only two people who ever did visit unannounced. But Belle was married now, and Sadie had run off.
Why had Miriam stopped by?
For whatever reason, God had known exactly what Ella needed: help.
Miriam was right. When was the last time someone had helped her? Ella was so used to being the caretaker that she had forgotten it was fair to accept the assistance of someone else from time to time. Otherwise, her efforts were far too one-sided, and that was not the way God intended life to be.
Long ago, Ella had learned that there were givers and takers. While she tried to not keep score, she didn’t need a scorecard to realize that some takers never gave. Instead, they merely took advantage of the givers, who, being so used to giving, never saw reason to be on the reciprocating end.
Having someone actually help her for a change felt strange. But Ella had known that the only way she’d get to the charity event that evening was with God’s help. Somehow he had found a way, and that way included Miriam’s unexpected visit and her experienced hands for sewing.
He had, indeed, provided for her.
Ella took a deep breath and walked down the porch steps. With summer ending, the garden had almost finished its productive cycle, but the weeds continued to grow. Still, there were pumpkins beginning to form, as well as butternut squash, two staples in the Troyer household for autumn meals.